


No Angels Could Beckon Me Back

by wanderingastro



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Keith rides Shiro's thigh, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, SHEITH - Freeform, Shiro makes Keith beg, lol i dont really know how to tag things, shiro makes keith scream ok, very light choking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 12:49:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15796866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingastro/pseuds/wanderingastro
Summary: "Keith generally goes about his life pretty quietly, but for Shiro, he thinks, for Shiro no sound is loud enough."Or alternatively, Keith gets off on Shiro’s thicc thigh.





	No Angels Could Beckon Me Back

**Author's Note:**

> title from [Animals](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ZdV0C_h9cM) by Troye Sivan  
> this is my first time writing Sheith smut so go easy on me lol

Keith hadn’t planned this, he thinks as he desperately mouths at Shiro’s neck, hands pawing wildly at his chest. He hadn’t planned to have Shiro’s back pressed against the wall of their shared Garrison quarters, Keith riding Shiro’s thigh for all he was worth. But Keith also hadn’t planned on bumping into Shiro just as he was exiting the gym showers, black tank sticking to his still-wet body, droplets of water sliding down from his stark white hair onto his temples and neck.

Keith takes one look at Shiro, giving him a warm smile as they pass each other in the hall, so oblivious to his own beauty in the moment, and feels the desire like a punch to the gut.

Keith doesn't hesitate before deviating from his path to the briefing room where a meeting awaits him to grab Shiro’s hand in his and tug them all the way back to their private quarters. They’d find an excuse; Keith tells himself. Something about a last minute catchup between the Captain of the Atlas and the head of Voltron.

Keith refuses to look at Shiro, knowing if he does, he might as well lose all self control right then and there in the hallway. Shiro gives a surprised gasp, but chuckles and allows himself to be lead forcefully through the garrison corridors.

The moment their bedroom door slides shut behind them, Keith is pushing Shiro against the nearest wall, fingers desperately clutching the hem of Shiro’s skin tight tank top.

“This,” Keith pants with a sharp tug, “is coming off.”

Shiro leaves bruising kisses down the line of Keith’s jaw, dutifully raising his arms up and allowing Keith to undress him. 

Keith pulls back for a moment, admiring the lines and angles that are Shiro’s torso, following the sculpted muscles down to where they disappear below Shiro’s low slung military grade trousers.  

“Who allowed you to be this pretty.” Keith growls, almost mad with frustration at the masterpiece that stands before him, skin golden in the early morning light.

Shiro chuckles, and reattaches his lips to Keith neck, one hand at the small of Keith’s back, the other coming up behind Keith’s thigh to wrap it around his own waist.

“You’re one to talk, spitfire.”

Keith is going to eat Shiro alive.

Shiro is ruthless, kissing and licking and biting in all the right places, just hard enough that the corners of Keith’s eyes wet with unshed tears. Keith’s eyes fall shut and he tilts his head back, allowing his lover more space to explore. The hand at Keith’s back falls to his ass, gripping harshly and pressing Keith flush against Shiro. Keith moans at Shiro’s hard cock against his thigh, so close, but just far enough away.

“Shiro-“ Keith breaths, fingers tugging at the still damp hair at the nape of Shiro’s neck, “need you. Right now.”

Shiro chuckles and pulls back, eyeing Keith with a mischievous grin.

“Aren’t you currently supposed to be in a meeting with the MFEs, Paladin?”

Keith lets out an annoyed groan, and pointedly grinds his hips into Shiro, relishing in the way Shiro’s breath catches, and his bare chest flushes.

“Fuck. Me.” Keith demands, thrusting with each word, Shiro’s thigh thick underneath Keith, so big it almost makes Keith dizzy. But Shiro just shakes his head, unbothered. As if his own trousers aren’t growing tighter by the second.

“Bad boys don’t get fucked.” Shiro breathes against Keith’s neck, biting sharply at his earlobe. Keith moans. If it’s games Shiro wants to play, Keith will always win. Shiro observes him silently, daring him to take action. Something deep in Keith’s stomach twists, and a new kind of determination overtakes him. Keith braces two hands against Shiro’s arms, pinning them to the wall behind him, and hooks his ankle around Shiro’s leg, forcing it between his thighs. Shiro’s height allows Keith to sit heavy and hot on his thigh right where he stands.

Shiro watches Keith’s efforts with an amused grin, but his pupils are blown and his cheeks are flushed red. Keith frees Shiro’s arms, moving his hands up to Shiro’s broad shoulders, leveraging himself to grind down against Shiro’s thick thigh with a satisfied groan.

Keith ruts against the hard muscle of Shiro with a quiet determination, moaning low and slow, but it’s not enough.

“Are you really gonna make me do all the work?” Keith relents, voice cracking slightly in desperation.

“Can you ask nicely?” Shiro grunts, eyes trained on the point where Keith rides his thigh.

Keith remains stubbornly silent, and the hand on his ass loosens just enough that Keith stutters against Shiro’s thigh. Keith thinks he might die from the onslaught of sensations that ripple through his body.

“Please.” Keith begs, and he didn’t know it was possible to whisper and scream at the same time.

Shiro  _finally_ snaps, and moves to action. His leans forward to engulf Keith’s mouth with his own, tongue sinful and breaths desperate. Shiro’s got a warm hand splayed across Keith’s abdomen underneath his Garrison uniform, and a cool metal one pressing into the back of Keith’s neck, subtly pushing Keith down against his thigh.

Shiro bounces his thigh in short unsteady bursts, and Keith cries out Shiro’s name against his lips. Keith’s legs are limp on either side of Shiro and he can barely manage to keep his eyes open.

Through his haze, Keith can’t help but think that Shiro shouldn’t be panting just as hard, if not harder than he is right now, but Keith decides he doesn’t mind, Shiro’s harsh breaths hot against Keith’s collarbone.

 Shiro’s hips involuntarily shudder, hard cock desperately searching for friction, and the jolt it sends through Keith’s entire body makes this low, desperate groan escape Keith’s lips. 

“That’s it baby – let me hear you.” Shiro growls as he grinds his tensed thigh against Keith’s crotch, fingers subtly pressing down against Keith’s stomach. The pressure takes Keith apart piece by piece, and his head falls against Shiro’s shoulder.

Keith generally goes about his life pretty quietly, but for Shiro, he thinks, for Shiro no sound is loud enough.

 A distant part of Keith’s mind knows exactly what it’s doing as Keith whines, high and desperate, grinding his crotch deep and slow against Shiro, the delicious friction turning Keith’s muscles to jelly. Shiro’s mechanical hand is so broad, it fits easily around Keith’s neck, and when Shiro presses his thumb and forefinger into the skin beneath Keith’s ears, Keith can’t contain the string of curses and pleas the tumble from his lips.

“Please   -Shiro.  Need more.”

Shiro shakes his head but continues his torturous pace, “I told you Keith. Bad boys don’t get fucked.” Shiro punctuates his words with harsh thrusts of his thigh, and Keith keens. “You get off right here or you don’t get off at all.”

Now Keith thinks he really might cry, but nevertheless, he accepts the challenge. He pushes back against Shiro’s grip for a moment, before coming down against his thigh with a renewed vigor. If Keith is anything, it’s stubborn.

Shiro bounces his thigh faster, and Keith screams his name. Keith is so close to the edge he feels it coil in his belly. Keith is too far gone to process Shiro ripping apart his Garrison jacket, but he still screams when he feels Shiro take a nipple in his mouth, teeth scraping against it with delicious friction.

“Shiro!” Keith yells, and his fingers tighten desperately against Shiro’s shoulders. At that moment, Shiro’s presses his hand down firmly against Keith’s abdomen, forcing Keith’s cock harder into Shiro’s thigh. The pressure becomes too much. Keith comes screaming Shiro’s name, head slung back, eyes wet with desperation.

“Keith.” Shiro breaths against him, as he holds Keith surely, letting him ride out his high. Shiro whispers sweetly in Keith’s ear, hands stroking him softly. Keith opens his eyes, and finds his and Shiro’s trousers wet with Keith’s release. With a soft shock, Keith realizes there is a second dark stain on Shiro’s pants, blooming at his crotch. Keith reaches, a question on his lips, but Shiro shakes his head.

“I’m good.” His cheeks warm, but his gaze meets Keith head on.

“You’re a fucking sight, spitfire.”

Keith thinks this should be such a turn on right now, knowing he made Shiro come without a single touch, too far gone to have even realized. But his heart squeezes in his chest, and all he wants to do is to kiss the soft grin off Shiro’s face into eternity.

“I love you.” Keith whispers against Shiro’s lips.

“Love you too, baby.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> come yell with me on [tumblr](http://solarshiro.tumblr.com) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


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